Lonliest in the Spotlight
by Supreme Distraction
Summary: [Commission] Not everything is as it appears. Luka Megurine, Japan's number one popstar, has it all-fame, fortune, talent. Everything except happiness. AU/AR MikuxLuka yuri.
1. Prologue

More sweetness for a sweetheart :3 This Hatsune Miku commission is for the patient and ever-pleasant **MikuxLuka401.**

Per request, the story is set in an alternate reality where Miku and Luka are human girls and, while one girl followed the popstar path, the other took the route of prostitution to take care of herself.

We all on board? Smashing. Let's begin.

 **Disclaimer** : I do not own Hatsune Miku or the characters depicted herein. I also do not own the image used as the cover. Thanks go to **GrimGrave** for beta reading this piece.

— **Prologue—**

"We need Luka in makeup."

"Does anyone know where the extra spotlights are?"

 ***Crash***

"We have fifteen minutes before we go live, people. Hustle!"

"You can't be serious... The hem ripped!"

Production was, as always, controlled chaos. Luka allowed herself to be pulled this way and that if only to avoid being chastised. Sometimes she felt like some big, dumb beast that the label was maintaining and keeping complacent so that she'd keep making money.

"I still need those lights!"

"Check the bus, idiot."

"I was just there!"

Cerulean orbs flicked to the conical stage lights that had rolled halfway under the luncheon table. They weren't quite concealed by the table cloth.

"Luka, which colour would you prefer?"

"Either is fine."

"How are you feeling? Do you need anything?"

"I'm fine. Thank you."

They stopped badgering her then with the assumption that she was gathering herself for her performance and the chaos went on around them.

"Seriously, guys, this isn't funny; I need them."

"Ten minutes, people!"

...

The venue was spectacular. This would be Luka's only chance to admire it as the moment the lights went on it became impossible to see anything beyond her little performance bubble. She was lead around and to the side of the stage, where a key-code secured door allowed her access to its innards. There, amidst the stage clutter of costume changes and microphones and speakers, a platform that could be lowered and then raised to stage-level was.

At its centre, Luka assumed a sassy stance: hip out, hand on opposite hip, other hand locked in a sideways peace sign near her twinkling eyes. She held it as the hatch directly above opened with a mechanical yawn. Cheers went up, fans screaming themselves hoarse for her, just as soon as the platform was raised high enough to reveal the crown of her head. Smoke machines belched clouds around her, dispelling almost instantly thanks to the heat of the lights above.

Luka began her set, projecting as best as she could over the enthusiastic audience response. She moved almost mechanically, giving no thought to the routine she knew by heart even as she smiled charmingly for the crowd.

This was the final stop on this tour, the conclusion of which meant she could go home. "Home" was a 3.5 million dollar gallery of music industry paraphernalia on the tip top floor of an impressive glass-faced skyscraper. It saw more use from the cleaning staff than it did its owner, what with her hectic schedule, but it was a nice quiet space where she could be out of the public eye for a while.

She missed her cats. She still remembered quite literally stumbling over a scrawny Russian Blue kitten rummaging on her way to the car that waited to take her to a show. It had wound its little body around her ankles, nearly tripping her a second time and, without thinking, she had scooped the filthy little thing up and taken it with her to the show. Production was upset that she'd dirtied her outfit, but she had been more interested in getting her assistant to bring the mewling kitten something to eat. She'd named him Kaito and a few months later, she'd fallen in love with a sandy-furred, blue-eyed Birman kitten she'd seen in a pet store window, which she'd named Len.

The duo had become her family over the years.

"Thank you all for coming!" Luka called, bowing at the waist. "I'm so fortunate to have all of you lovely fans."

Next there would be a meet and greet for backstage pass holders and still later, an after party celebrating the success of her most recent album. They had a flight to catch in the morning, too, bound for Sapporo, Japan. She'd have to order something on the plane, which would likely be challenging given her vegan dietary habits, but that was the risk of not taking the private jet. Her handler would meet her at the airport and she'd have to change into a cocktail dress in the back of the limo because it would be around 8pm there and every Friday she had dinner with the developers at _Crypton Future Media_ who wanted to show her off to potential investors.

Every hour of her day was carefully jam packed with as much as she could get done and, as the saying went, she'd sleep when she was dead.

* * *

A green-haired woman slapped down a stack of bills onto the front desk on her way down the hallway to the elevator. She winked at the man sitting there-she didn't remember his name and he likely wouldn't be there for much longer given how quickly they went through new hires who got in over their heads-as she passed. The elevator buttons had been worn down over time so that only the outline of the numbers remained. Not that anyone but the girls who worked here ever used it. The one that their guests used was all glass panels and stainless steel interior; voice activated so you didn't even have to fumble with those troublesome buttons.

A chime indicated that she had reached her floor and the doors parted to reveal another narrow hallway. Each door had a name placard and she stopped at the one marked, "Miku." The reader by the door scanned her Iris and allowed her entrance with a pneumatic hiss.

Miku shed her clothes as she crossed the entryway, pursing her lips at the stickiness of her inner thighs. She was going to have to put her foot down about the clients who wanted to use a strap on her and the kinds of lube they wanted to use. It just got so messy. She turned on the water as hot as it would go and stepped under the spray once steam curled around the lion feet of the tub.

To call this place a brothel would be... Accurate. It was a very nice one, true, but a fresh coat of paint didn't hide the rotting wood below.

The young woman fetched a loofah, loading it with body wash before beginning a careful and thorough cleansing. Once she was done, she wrapped a terrycloth robe around her, tying it loosely around her waist, and went into her bedroom. A brush, blow-dryer, and hair care products awaited her as did make-up palettes and jars of nail polish. She had to make sure she took care of herself in her line of work.

Miku didn't mind what she did in the slightest. Her personal mantra was 'service with a smile'-it didn't matter if she was selling cars or selling her body. Her disposition was further helped by the fact that their clientele was female only, meaning that much of the time she genuinely enjoyed fucking and being fucked.

After she had dried her hair, she braided long green strands. They hung nearly to the middle of her back when they weren't caught up in her usual twin pigtails. She examined her nails idly, making sure that they weren't too long. Half the time, she didn't know why she bothered to paint them considering they'd start chipping quite soon after. Most of her return clients appreciated that extra mile, though, so...

Miku worried her bottom lip with her teeth as she removed the existing coat and reapplied a new one with a steady hand. What time was it anyway? Her gaze flicked to the analog clock on the nightstand next to her bed: 11:43pm. She didn't remember if she had eaten.

Her rumbling stomach answered, "no," and she went to the adjoining kitchenette to rectify that. Miku preferred home cooked meals to cheap, greasy takeout, but some nights she couldn't muster the energy. The girls were able to get meals from the main kitchen downstairs, but only provided they were present at scheduled meal times.

It was nice to eat with the others, but it just wasn't feasible given their unpredictable schedules.

Miku turned her nose up at a half-empty carton of Chinese food, surveying the meager selection a second time before settling on a ready-cook meatloaf and mashed potatoes meal. She needed to ask for some money for groceries. Her boss was a little tight fisted, but he gave generously when it came to maintaining appearances and she'd get fat in no time if she kept eating like this.

Speak of the devil, the sound of the door's locking mechanism disengaging prompted her to put down the steaming container and move quickly to the entryway. There was only one other person with access to her room.

"Miku." The man was tall, gaunt. His shades obscured the majority of his features. "Lloyd tells me you came back late tonight."

Right. That was the front desk man's name. "I left the money with him."

"I want all my girls back here by curfew. You know this."

"I'm sorry. My date took longer than expected, but she paid for the overage."

A gloved hand gripped her chin and though she loathed the contact, she held still as he examined her. He was a good "manager," as he called himself, despite the steep cut he liberated from his staff. He never hit his girls, nor did he ever take advantage of them and he ensured that they were comfortable so long as they did their jobs well. What more could she ask for?

"You look good, kid."

"Thank you, sir."

"Please, call me Daddy."

'Ugh.' "Yes... Daddy."

He laughed and patted her on the ass before leaving. Miku was still for a full minute after the man had left, her heart beating fast. She wasn't one for mind games or posturing meant to assert ones dominance and he knew that—which was why he toyed with her in this manner.

The green-haired woman sighed and went back to her dinner, her mood darker than it had been before. Fortunately, he trusted her enough that she only required a weekly check-in. Before she went to bed, she meditated on her day, releasing the irritation of their meeting and recovering her calm.

Life wasn't all sunshine and rainbows, but then it certainly could be worse.


	2. No Place Like Home

— **No Place Like Home—**

Luka stirred when the sun filtered through the blinds, more from habit than anything. Early morning flights were a norm during the touring season, so it took her a moment to remember that she wasn't actually on her way to the airport this morning. She dropped the overnight bag she'd picked up onto the floor and fell onto her back on her bed, a relieved sigh leaving her.

Peace and quiet.

.

.

.

She must have dozed off because the gentle rumble of a purr roused her enough to reach instinctively for the furrball she knew would soon be poking her face with a paw. Kaito mewled when she hugged him to her chest, squirming, and soon after Len came leaping onto the bed, headbutting her arm for pets.

"Alright, alright, I'm awake." She yawned, releasing the sandy-furred kitty, and the two went dashing off, the collars around their necks jingling merrily. She followed the echoing sound, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. In the kitchen, she filled their bowls and bid her personal chef good morning. He already had breakfast plates on the table and her assistant had gathered tabloids featuring her performance the night before for her to peruse.

She frowned at the pile and returned to the master bathroom to quickly brush her teeth and wash her face. By the time she sat at the table, the chef had added a few more plates and Len and Kaito were sitting on their favourite breakfast perch, watching her with curious gazes. They kept her company as she picked over her food, her mind elsewhere.

"Did you want me to make you something else, Miss?"

"Mm? No thank you, Eric. You can go."

The young man bowed and took his leave until the next scheduled meal. He had already blended up some protein shakes and left them in the fridge in case she felt peckish later.

After she was finished, Luka placed her dishes in the sink and returned to her room. She showered and changed into some jeans and a t-shirt and was lacing up high top sneakers when someone knocked on her door.

"Yes?"

"Miss Luka, did you have plans today?"

She swore under her breath, stuffing her wallet into her pocket and jamming a beanie onto her head. "Uh, yeah. I was just heading out."

"Please be back by 6. Your vocal coach is coming to see you."

"Can do."

Luka waited until her assistant's footsteps faded before moving quickly and quietly to the foyer. Len and Kaito were already there to see her off, the former sitting in a potted plant and the latter crouched between two marble busts. Len's ears flicked back when she grabbed her house keys and Kaito mewled, his tail curling and uncurling.

"Hold down the fort, boys." She stooped and kissed the tops of furry heads before heading out and closing the door quietly behind her.

* * *

Luka took her bike rather than the car-less conspicuous that way. The air was unseasonably cool for this time of year, but she welcomed the cool breeze as she wound her way through the city streets. It was early enough so that there wasn't too much foot traffic, though some salary men were still making their way to work. She pulled into an alley and was about to secure her bike when a large, buff man came around the side of the building.

"I thought I saw you come around here. You can take your bike inside, kid."

"O-oh." Her face heated. "Thank you, Lloyd."

"No problem. You come here pretty often, huh?" He lifted the bike easily, gesturing for her to go ahead of him. "You don't seem like the type to need our services."

"Uh..."

"Hey, no judgment here. You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."

Luka smiled gratefully as she held the door open for him and Lloyd went into the lobby where he set down the bike behind his desk. The place was all shades of white and creme-regal without being overbearing. Dressed as she was she felt totally out of place, but like Lloyd had said: there was no judgment here. It was a practice that all of the staff she'd met with seemed to embrace.

"The usual?"

He'd only been their front desk man for two months by her count. It was a little embarrassing that he'd already gotten her routine down. "Yes... Thank you."

"Cash?"

"Yes." She set down a stack of bills and waited for him to count it. Not that the sum was particularly large; just enough to get her the time she needed without implicating her as someone with means.

"Fifth floor. Enjoy yourself." He grinned and she returned the expression weakly as she accepted the key card to access the lift.

Luka hooked a right and made the short trip down a plain hallway to the elevator lobby. There were four elevators, each of which she could only assume were also glass walled because they wouldn't open without the correct key card. She entered the one furthest to the left and a pleasant female voice said, "It's our pleasure to serve you. What is your destination?"

"Fifth floor."

A gentle chime indicated that the command had been recognized and the elevator doors slid shut.

"Hold on!"

A well-dressed, green-haired woman was hustling towards the elevator, determination in blue eyes. Luka started, quickly placing her foot between the closing doors to stop them.

"Obstruction detected. Please remove any personal belongings from the doorway."

The elevator was at once flooded with a sweet scent she couldn't put her finger on and Luka stole glances at the other girl as they ascended. Did she work here? She nodded when the girl thanked her, hunching her shoulders and fiddling with the ID card in her pocket. On second glance, the girl was quite pretty and there was confidence in her stance that Luka had affected many times herself on stage.

The young woman kept her gaze on the door, but Luka saw the corner of her lip quirk upwards and immediately faced forward, her stomach fluttering. Caught. When she got to her floor, Luka squeaked a goodbye and stumbled into the hallway, breathing a sigh of relief when the doors shut again. No matter how many times she did this, she'd never feel comfortable meeting with...

Who was she meeting with anyway?

Luka made her way down the dimly lit hall, her heart thudding against the inside of her chest. The lighting was intended to create a romantic atmosphere conductive to more carnal activities, but it actually just made her anxiety levels spike. The plaque on one of the doors lit up, responding to the proximity; it read "Yuki."

She knocked before entering, though she really didn't need to, and a sultry female voice said, "Come on in, baby."

Ugh. The pet names and the false sense of emotional connection they inspired were something she could do without.

Inside, the room was clean and simple. There was a bed, naturally, and a chest of drawers full of unmentionables, and the decor was modern. A gorgeous short-haired brunette awaited her, long legs crossed. She was fully dressed and, though she smiled enticingly, she waited for Luka to approach.

Across from the bed, there was a single wooden stool.

Good. Lloyd had passed on the message. The thing she liked most about this brothel—even more so than the total lack of judgment of its patrons-was that the girls were flexible in the services they offered. If you could dream it, there was a girl here who could make it happen—assuming you could afford it.

Yuki crawled to the end of the bed on all-fours, dark eyes glittering as Luka took a seat. She likely expected to be placed across Luka's lap and spanked or made to act like a pet or... Well, there were a lot of interesting tales she'd heard from other girls she'd met with.

Would Yuki be disappointed that there was nothing of that nature on her mind?

"I just want to talk."

Even as she said it, it sounded lame in her ears-an echoed sentiment that half a dozen other girls had heard before her.

Ayane had learned that she was tired. All the time. Waking up, going to a venue, performing sound tests, dressing, preparing herself mentally, performing, attending after parties and meet and greets-it all came before finally getting some sleep. Then she had to do it again, daily, for weeks and sometimes months at a time.

Haruko had learned that she never had time for herself. She had to meet with writers when she wasn't writing her own music, travel to the studio for recording, promotional shoots, and music video production. Sometimes she managed to forget her fatigue, she was so caught up in a million other things.

Izumi had learned that she felt stifled. She went where production wanted her to, saying only what they said she could. She was constantly being coached, groomed. Regardless of what she was feeling, she was expected to grin and bear it. A pretty idol is a valuable idol.

Naoto had learned that she felt expendable. Being signed to a major label meant money, yes, but competition doesn't stop. And just because she was sick didn't mean the shoot/performance/meeting could be postponed. Time was quite literally money in the entertainment world. If she was unhappy with the way things were, there was always another cute young girl eager to be famous anyway. Other idols were catty and viscous, undercutting her where they could while smiling in her face. It was through stardom that she had learned the lengths to which a desperate woman would go.

The list went on.

She couldn't give the exact details without outing herself, but she managed to fill their time together with talking and that eased some of herburden. Some girls even managed to carry on the conversation as though they had a genuine interest. Did they actually care? Probably not. But at least she felt betterafterwards-if only for a little while.

* * *

When her time was up, Luka bid Yuki goodbye. The elevator ride down seemed much longer than the one up had been and she worried her bottom lip as the floors passed by. When the doors opened, she returned to the lobby and she was relieved to see Lloyd wasn't at the desk.

She wasn't in the mood to put on another act.

The pink-haired girl retrieved her bike and slipped outside. Buildings and people blurred by as she pedaled hard, placing as much distance between herself and the establishment as she could. She felt... Lighter somehow and she released a whoop as she veered around foot traffic. The sun was high in the sky and the city noise was comforting in its familiarity.

It felt good to share, even if the conversation had been rather one sided. Even if her conversation partner had likely forgotten her story the moment she walked out of the room. Even if Yuki had looked at her with pity in dark eyes...

Luka frowned. The irony of having a woman of ill repute pitying her, a super star who supposedly had everything going for her, made her gut lurch. By the time she got home, Luka was exhausted-not physically, but emotionally. She showered and then fell into her bed, her throat aching as frustration welled up in blue eyes.

 _Was_ she really so pitiable? And if so, why was she staying in a position that made her so unhappy? Like the abusee in an abusive relationship, she allowed the cycle to continue without hope of ever breaking it.

"Miss Luka?" A timid knock made her wipe her face hastily.

"Come in."

Eric opened the door and in came Len and Kaito. They leaped right onto the bed, purring and rubbing against her, and she at once felt better. Who needed people? Cats were the best.

"I'll start making lunch if you're ready."

She almost declined, but doing so had caused issues in the past. Apparently her personal trainer thought her "too skinny" and not eating regularly hadn't helped. After her manager had found out, he'd instructed Eric to watch her like a hawk.

"Sure."

"Good girl."

She smiled weakly back at the man and he closed the door behind him.


	3. Mysterious Melody

**—Mysterious Melody—**

Miku entered the lobby and made a beeline for Lloyd. He quirked an eyebrow when she didn't hand him any money. "Everything alright, Miss Miku?"

"Who was that girl here earlier?"

His other eyebrow rose and she sighed. It was a stupid question, of course, given that there were always girls coming through the lobby. It was a wonder he had managed to learn most of their names in the few months he'd been here.

There had only been one girl here today-or ever, really-who had piqued her interest enough for her to get onto the wrong elevator just to be able to get a good look at her. After the pink-haired girl had gotten off on her floor, Miku had returned to the lobby only to find that Lloyd had left his post and it was only just now that she had been able to get a moment to speak with him.

"Pink hair? Tall and slender? Great skin even without makeup?" she tried.

The man's brow furrowed and Miku was about to tell him to forget about it when realization brightened his expression. "Oh. You mean the kid. She's always here."

The green-haired woman blanched. She had looked young, but hearing him call her a kid was doubly worrying. "You wouldn't happen to know anything about her, would you?"

"Real quiet, that one. She comes here at least once a week and asks for a girl around her age. Pays cash and doesn't need any clean-up afterwards, though she does always request a stool."

"A stool?" Miku echoed. That wasn't the strangest of requests, but it was still a cause for questions.

"I don't know anything else. You'd have to ask her dates."

"What about a name?"

"I just call her "kid," honestly." Lloyd looked her over. "Why are you asking so many questions anyway?"

Miku frowned. "She went to the fifth floor."

He shrugged. "She wants cheap, she gets cheap."

The girls on the 5th floor and lower may have costed the least in terms of cash, but there were a lot more costly things at stake...

"Send her to me next time. I'll cover the difference."

Lloyd's eyebrows rose again. "You sweet on this kid or something, Miku?"

"I've never even seen her before today," was her honest response.

* * *

Miku had been getting a lot of house calls lately-which was fine, but she didn't drive so sometimes it was inconvenient to navigate public transportation. The travel bag slung over her shoulder was full of sex toys and the soiled clothing she had changed out of and she clutched it close to her side as she boarded a train.

The woman pulled out her phone and consulted her schedule, then glanced at the subway map to plan her route accordingly. It was nearly 3pm by the time she made it to her next date and, upon knocking on the door, she was at once swept into a bear hug.

"Miku, darling, it's SO good to see you!"

This was a rather odd regular of hers. Though the brothel only served women, Gerald, a budding artist, scheduled her weekly for a modeling session. "He" identified as a woman and as long as there was no funny business and payment was made, the boss didn't care who she spent her time with.

"Hey, love. How are you?"

"You're just in time to save my life. Come, come."

Gerald ushered her upstairs, into her studio, where she had set up her canvas. The room was controlled chaos as always, though Miku spied a few new pieces Lawrence had added to a growing collection.

"Would you be a dear?"

Miku obediently went to the chaise and made herself comfortable. Gerald eyed her critically before coming over and arranging her properly.

"Okay, now hold still..."

Miku breathed slowly, trying her best to hold still. The sound of graphite on canvas was soothing and her mind wandered. What was Luka doing right now? Did she have quiet moments like this?

"You got some tea for me, Mama?"

She angled her head without thinking, quickly readjusting when Gerald made a sound of protest. "What do you mean?"

"Something's obviously on your mind. So what's up?"

"I met someone interesting the other day."

"Oh? You do meet plenty of people in your line of work."

"I do."

"So what's so special about this girl?"

Miku almost tilted her head again, but caught herself this time. "Why do you use the brothel, Ger? I'm sure you know plenty of pretty girls who would be willing to model for you."

"You've got something they don't, doll. A special little spark that's so rare in modern day missies."

"Thanks?"

"Seriously, boo, you're an amazing person. I don't mind paying a bit more because your energy inspires me."

She wasn't sure she understood completely, but she smiled, touched. "This girl is visiting the brothel and I'm pretty sure it's not for sex. I want to know why."

"Curiosity killed the cat."

"So they say."

Gerald arched a perfectly plucked eyebrow. "That can't be the only reason; I know you."

Perhaps a little too well. "I don't know what it is, but she intrigued me at first sight. Maybe it's that same light you mentioned."

"Hm."

Gerald didn't elaborate on that thoughtful sound and Miku didn't ask. They retreated into their own thoughts and for that she was thankful. Time eased by at a comfortable pace until her smart watch beeped a warning, the information for her next date scrolling across the screen.

"Looks like time's up, girly. I'll see you next week."

Miku retrieved her things and made for the door, promising she'd be back the same time next week. She couldn't afford to linger.

"I'll see you when I see you." Gerald patted the top of the canvas. "And I'll have this guy finished by then. Look forward to it!"

...

The next appointment wasn't so nice.

The moment Miku entered the apartment, she was pushed into the door and kissed roughly. Normally, she wouldn't have minded, but this was her last stop today and she was tired. Was it asking for too much to want a bit of tenderness?

The woman who manhandled her breasts, pawing at them through the fabric of her blouse and bra seemed to think so. Miku bit back a sigh as she helped her date undress her, obediently letting the stocky, obviously butch woman take control as she was pushed towards the bedroom.

This hour passed by slowly. Though her muscles ached pleasantly afterwards as a result of the exertion, physical exhaustion made her limbs heavy. How am I going to get back? she wondered. The mere thought of navigating the commuter train made her temples throb. She idly considered asking her date for a ride, but the woman was already looking at her expectantly-as if she should have already gathered herself and shown herself out.

At least the sex had been good.

Miku gathered her clothes and made a beeline for the bathroom she was gestured in the general direction of with a grunt and a jabbed thumb.

As she passed the living room, where she happened to glance at the TV that had been left on, she froze. She'd seen the girl who pirouetted on stage before and it took her a moment to connect the dots.

The girl who'd captured her attention in the lobby the night before was Luka Megurine. _The_ Luka Megurine—number one popstar in Japan whose chart topping hits were known worldwide.

A million questions swirled around her head, but the one that managed to find its way to the forefront was: what would someone like her want with a place like this? It wasn't safe to assume, but she'd learned how to read people over the years and Luka didn't strike her as the type to require their services. So then why? And why would someone with money go for the cheapest possible girl? Didn't she run the risk of being discovered by coming here? What could be worth the scandal that would trail her like a shadow?

Wondering only served to raise more questions and there was only one person who knew the answer to them. She hoped to have a chance to ask the girl herself very soon.

...

Miku yanked the sheets off her bed, her heart beating fast. Lloyd had just paged her and told her to expect a special guest in about an hour and, suddenly, nothing in her immaculate room had seemed clean enough. She was a frenzy of activity for the next ten, fifteen minutes.

She paused at the foot of her bed, toying with the hem of her shirt, then decided against stripping and sat down squarely in its centre. She began to fidget almost immediately with her bed spread.

'Oh!' She set down a wooden stool across from her bed, per Lloyd's instructions, and went back to her bed.

Miku was picking the paint off her nails-a horrible habit-by the time a knock on her door made her nearly jump out of her skin. Was it her?

A full minute passed and the knocker didn't enter. Miku cleared her throat and was happy to say her voice didn't reflect her apprehension. "Come in?"

The door opened and, judging by the wide-eyed expression on the pink-haired girl's face, she recognized Miku.

Miku wasn't sure why that made her so happy. Just like that, she was totally calm. "Good afternoon."

Luka's surprise turned quickly into mistrust and Miku was concerned she would take off when blue eyes flicked to the door. Then, she closed it quietly and went to sit across from the bed, her hands in her pockets. Luka didn't make eye contact and Miku didn't move, allowing the girl to engage at her own pace.

Finally, Luka asked, "Who are you?"

"I'm sure you saw the plaque on the door," Miku joked gently.

At that, her visitor looked up. "I've seen you before. In the lobby. I don't think it's a coincidence that we're meeting again now."

Clever girl.

She chose her words carefully, taking that moment to study the young woman. There was no doubt about it despite how plainly she was dressed in ripped jeans and a baggy tee: this was Luka Megurine in the flesh and blood. Miku couldn't say she was a fan, but she did admire talent and the pink-haired girl had it in spades. She was also incredibly beautiful...

Miku didn't realize she was staring until Luka cleared her throat.

"I just wanted to talk. You don't look like you belong here." She knew that skeptical look. No one in this day and age did anything without an ulterior motive. "Seriously. I'm dressed, I'm not throwing myself at you, and the door is open so you can leave whenever you want. I do hope you won't, though, as my time is valuable."

Luka's brow furrowed. "I didn't even realize the building had this many floors."

"You're currently in the third quadrant and the last one accessible to guests."

The spark of curiosity in blue eyes was adorable and she sat up a bit straighter. "What's above us?"

"Management." Including one control freak boss and the goons he hired to keep his girls safe.

"Why are there four elevators?"

"You can only access them with a particular key card." Miku pointed to the red card sticking out of Luka's pocket. "Each elevator is only able to stop on a specific range of floors."

"But why?" When Miku hesitated, Luka added, "If it's a trade secret or something, you don't have to tell me."

"There are four elevators, each of which can access five floors apiece. There are also different tiers of women and the lower the floor, the cheaper the date."

She could practically see the sharp mind turning behind narrowed blue eyes. "You fall into the highest price range, then."

"Mhm."

"But Lloyd charged me the same price as always."

"...mhm." Before the inquisitive girl could press further, Miku said, "Consider it a free upgrade for being a repeat customer."

Luka scoffed. "That's something that happens?"

"This time it did." Miku uncrossed and crossed her legs. "Are you always this suspicious?"

"No good deed goes unpunished and no kindness comes without a cost."

"Well you already paid me, so you have nothing to worry about."

"Hm."

She was as cynical as someone twice her age and already she was building a wall between them. Miku drummed her fingertips against the bedspread as she tried to get into the mindset of her date.

"What do you want from me?"

"What do you mean?"

"The purpose of this place is to give our guests what they want. I've provided that stool, as requested, but I'd like to know how you'd like me to serve you."

She made a face. "None of that, please. Can we just keep talking?"

"Whatever you want. How was your day?"

It wasn't a particularly difficult question, but Luka still seemed taken aback. It took her a full thirty seconds before she answered, "Busy. I had a ton of errands to run."

"Is that normal for you?"

"Somewhat."

"That sounds stressful. What do you do to relax?"

Again, she seemed floored by the simple question. Miku almost felt bad for asking.

"I've never thought about it, honestly. I like movies. And I have two cats who love to nap with me."

"Do you have pictures of them?"

It was with obvious pleasure that Luka produced her mobile phone. Their fingers brushed as she handed it to Miku. "Len is on the right and Kaito is on the left."

They cooed for a while over the kittens and Luka became animated as she talked about the only two creatures she could call friend. The wall she'd immediately constructed lowered to some degree as she shared fond memories, and Miku listened with a smile on her face.

"Sorry, I must be boring you."

"Not at all. I can tell you really care about your little family."

Suddenly Luka withdrew, her expression becoming unreadable as she nodded. "Yeah."

What had Miku said wrong and how could she coax out the excited young woman she'd caught a glimpse of? She sighed when her smart watch vibrated, indicating that their time together was almost finished. "I do hate to cut this short, but that's all the time we have today."

Luka was on her feet in an instant. "Thank you for talking with me today. This was lovely."

"Glad you thought so. I enjoyed myself as well." She meant that.

Luka opened her mouth, as if to speak, but then seemed to think better of it. When she hesitated, Miku took advantage of the lapse in focus to ask, "What can I call you, by the way? I'd rather not call you "kid" like Lloyd does and I'm not one for pet names."

She couldn't figure out why a smile flashed across Luka's face, but she very much wanted to see that expression again.

"Oh, um, you can call me... Melody"

"So I'll be seeing you again?" She felt silly for asking-like a young man floundering through his first date. "I'd like to continue our chat."

Luka paused again, her hand on the door handle. "Can I afford you?"

It was a realistic question for an average person and one that she likely didn't even have to consider except while presenting herself as an average person. "If you want to see me, I'll make it so. Just say the word."

Their gazes met, blue on blue, and Miku's heart beat fast beneath her breast. She wanted to know more about the real Luka beneath the bubbly pop star facade. What she had seen today confirmed that empirically.

"...I'd like that."

Luka gave a little wave before making her escape and the moment the door shut behind her, Miku collapsed onto her bed. She wasn't able to prevent the huge grin that crept across her face, the excitement of accomplishing what she had set out to do making her stomach turn flips.

The boss wasn't going to be happy about this when he found out.


	4. No Such Thing as Lucky

— **No Such Thing as Lucky—**

Luka rolled onto her side for the umpteenth time that night and she heard Kaito make a disgruntled sound at the foot of the bed. Poor kitty. No matter how she shifted or drank tea or counted sheep—or any of the natural sleep aids her internet search had come up with—she just couldn't fall asleep. Her mind was a maelstrom despite the tiredness that weighed on her limbs, turning over the exchange from several nights ago again and again and again...

 _/ "Right on time, Kid."_

 _"Hey, Lloyd."_

 _"You look nice."_

 _She'd actually just come from a shoot, so her makeup was still done. She hunched her shoulders to evade his scrutiny. "Thanks."_

 _Normally this is where he asked, "The usual?" with a grin. His expression was serious as he keyed information into his computer. "Just a sec."_

 _Luka cast a glance around the lobby. The familiarity of its white walls and chrome fixtures was both comforting and unnerving. When she actually stopped and thought about it, she'd spent way too much of her time here. And for what?_

 _"Alright, sorry for the hold up." Luka snapped to attention and was surprised to see Lloyd was offering a dark red key card rather than the usual white. He gave no explanation as she accepted it hesitantly. "Third elevator from the left. 15th floor."_

 _"Huh?" This was the first time she'd heard a number so high or been given access to a different elevator. What was going on? When she put her money on the counter, the man didn't even count it._

 _He was grinning. "Enjoy."_

 _The plaque on the door read 'Miku.' Luka knocked firmly after glancing at the surrounding hall._

 _"Come in?" a woman's voice said. This room's owner seemed just as confused as the others she'd met by her courtesy._

 _When she pushed the door open, she was immediately greeted by the visage of the pretty green-haired woman she'd seen just the other day and she stopped dead. Luka was no fool and this was no coincidence._

 _"Good afternoon."_

 _Luka's gaze narrowed and she glanced towards the door, wondering if it was too late to go back downstairs. Just as quickly, she dismissed the sudden and paranoid desire and shut the door behind her. She'd done this dozens of times already and knew this to be a reputable business. Or... As reputable as a whore house could be. She avoided looking at the other woman as she took her place on the stool, her hands in her pockets and her heart beating fast._

 _The silence dragged on for what felt like ages with Luka staring at the floor and Miku looking, presumably, right at her. Finally, Luka asked, "Who are you?"_

 _"I'm sure you saw the plaque on the door," the woman said._

 _Luka frowned. She read the attempt at humour as a deflection. "I've seen you before. In the lobby. I don't think it's a coincidence that we're meeting again now."_

 _Pretty blue eyes roamed, taking her in with an intensity to which even the popstar wasn't accustomed despite having been idolized by fans before. Her face hot, Luka cleared her throat and the woman started-as though her mind had wandered elsewhere._

 _The smile that curved full lips was meant to be comforting. "I just wanted to talk. You don't look like you belong here." Luka was unable to control her eye roll. "Seriously. I'm dressed, I'm not throwing myself at you, and the door is open so you can leave whenever you want. I do hope you won't, though, as my time is valuable."_

 _So she had heard Miku out and been surprised by how genuine and understanding she was. No wonder her services costed more; she was very good at what she did. She almost made Luka believe that she was interested. /_

Unfortunately, "almost" had proven to be satisfying enough and Luka couldn't wait for their next meeting. It had been on her mind all week—to the point that management had started questioning her lapses in focus and scatterbrained tendencies. After years of pretending to be someone else, it was easy to assuage their doubts no matter how many times she missed a choreographed step or sang the original track when a new one had been chosen.

When Luka Megurine set her mind on something, she would achieve it no matter what. She had to know if the connection she had felt last week had been real.

...

Luka was late.

Lloyd looked at her like she had grown a second head as she entered the building, panting slightly. "You okay, kid?"

He had actually stood up and was halfway to her, concern in the furrow of his brow, by the time she caught her breath enough to say, "I'm fine. The chain on my bike broke on the way over."

That and she had woken up late as a result of being too excited to actually get any sleep the night before—but he didn't need to know that.

"You leave it outside? I'll take a look at it."

"Thank you."

"Don't mention it." He waved away her gratitude and handed her the blood red key card. "Miss Miku is waiting for you."

The elevator ride and subsequent walk along the hallway only served to compound the erratic pace of her heartbeat. By the time she stood before Miku's door, Luka had to take a moment to breathe deeply and restore some measure of calm. Then, she knocked firmly.

"Come in," a familiar voice said almost immediately.

Miku was sitting at the foot of her bed, her legs crossed. She was jostling one leg like the impatient twitch of a cat's tail, though she stilled as Luka approached.

"I thought you might have run back to the lower floors." She was smiling, as if in jest, but Luka didn't miss the relief in the way Miku's posture changed. "Busy day again?"

"Mhm." She scooted the stool a bit further from the bed before taking a seat.

"I don't bite, you know."

Of course she'd noticed; those bright blue orbs were eagle sharp as she observed her guest.

"Good to know." Luka didn't move. "You looked like you were waiting for me."

Her smile was bright and immediate. "I won't lie: I'm happy to see you."

"Why?" She was genuinely confused.

"I dunno." Miku shrugged. "There's something about you, Melody."

Melody. The alias served to help her distance herself from the pleased warmth that suffused her chest. "Thanks, I guess."

"Yup."

"Can I ask you something?"

"Shoot."

"I want your honest answer."

"You'll have it even when you don't want it." She winked.

Luka actually laughed. "Are you always this friendly? That's not the question, by the way."

"I have my moments. Usually, people don't care much about my personality."

Noted. She didn't sense any bitterness in the matter of fact way the green haired woman spoke. That alone set her apart from the other prostitutes Luka had met. If this was just an act, it was a damn impressive one. Miku seemed to know just what to say to put her at ease. Miku's posture was relaxed, open, and that made her want to accept the unspoken invitation to move closer.

That alien desire was ironically what kept her rooted to the spot.

"So what was your question?"

Her heart skipped an anxious beat and she hunched her shoulders. "Never mind."

The rest of the hour flew by.

...

Practice dragged on. By the time the choreographer asked her and the duo acting as her backup to stop, Luka was ready to tear her hair out.

"Hey Luka, want a— Oh.. sorry..."

"It's fine." She forced a smile. "My bad. You startled me."

The doubtful look she received made sense as Luka had been looking directly at the girl when she had walked up. The second that it took Luka to turn and face her manager hadn't been enough for her to forget the girl's presence and therefore she shouldn't have flinched away when a hand had rested on her shoulder.

But she had and now the people around her were looking at her strangely.

"Have you been getting enough sleep, Luka? You seem on edge."

"I'm fine."

It was always difficult to get to sleep the night before she went to see Miku.

...

"Why do you come here, Melody? A pretty girl like you should have plenty of conversation partners." It was said in her usual to the point manner, but Luka still felt pleased by the compliment.

"You'd be surprised."

"Oh? Try me."

"Men my age want to screw me, women my age want to screw me over. I had a girlfriend a couple years ago who only pretended to be my friend in order to get me into a compromising situation."

It didn't help that the girl had been a fellow idol and therefore her competition.

"Ah. At school or...?"

"At work. She wanted to get ahead, I guess, and thought that embarrassing me was the way to go."

Too bad it had backfired and she had ended up stepping out of the spotlight for months now because of backlash from Luka's fans. Karma was a funny thing.

"What do you do for work?"

"I'm a vocal coach. I teach kids the skills they need to sing their little hearts out." It was at least half true.

There was something strange about the way Miku was looking at her. "Ever work with any high profile clients? Japan has a lot of talented individuals."

"I can't say I have."

"I see. Do you like what you do?"

"Do you?" Her snappiness was an unintended result of her defensiveness.

"I don't mind it. The money is good and I can make my own schedule."

Were they really talking about prostitution? "I've... Never thought about it like that."

"Mhm. The boss takes pretty good care of us and since this brothel only serves women, the clientele is much better than most places. A definite perk of the job is my love of sex."

Luka's cheeks heated and she quickly averted her gaze. She wasn't sure why that statement made her so uncomfortable given that she was sitting in a brothel, opposite a prostitute, but it did. It didn't help that sharp blue eyes were appraising her reaction, pretty features unreadable.

Had she said it just to get a rise out of Luka? It was hard to tell.

"Can we please talk about something else?"

Miku arched an eyebrow at that, but she didn't comment. "Your wish is my desire."

...

Len mewled and pawed at the door. He sat and waited until Luka opened it and then he darted out into the darkness of the hall, his collar jingling. The pink haired girl closed the door behind him and, after giving her bed a displeased look, she fell into it.

Her most recent talk with Miku had been... Interesting. She wasn't used to being so candid about certain subjects, but the green-haired woman's cavalier attitude had encouraged her to divulge information she hadn't to anyone else.

That vulnerability that caused terrified her-but only when she wasn't entranced by the mischievous light in blue eyes. In the moment, it felt right and natural to talk to Miku and it was becoming increasingly more difficult to ignore the feelings that stirred beneath her breast when they were together.

Was she the biggest fool in the world for opening her heart to a prostitute of all people?

A mewl at the door marked Len's return and Luka dutifully left the warmth of her bed to let him back in.

The clock on her nightstand read 2:28AM.

...

Miku seemed a little frazzled when Luka joined her.

This time, the pink haired girl didn't shift the stool away from the foot of the bed. Sitting within arm's length of the gorgeous woman was a little nerve-wracking-and this was coming from someone who had performed in front of audiences of thousands of people.

Miku gave her a look. "How are you?"

"Fine. Is something wrong?"

Miku opened her mouth, paused, then closed it. "I... need you to do me a favour, Melody."

A little red flag went off at the back of Luka's mind. "What is it?"

"I need you to stop coming here for a little while."

What? Her chest constricted. "Why?"

"My boss found out I was comping your visits and he was less than pleased."

"But you said..." She had lied. Of course. What hurt the most was that Luka hadn't expected it to happen. For whatever reason, she had accepted it to be true. "God, I'm such an idiot."

"Don't say that." The gentle hands that gripped her shoulders contradicted the sharpness of Miku's tone and, though she couldn't meet that bright blue gaze, she didn't flinch away. "I'm sorry, okay? I just wanted to keep seeing you and it seemed like maybe you felt the same way."

Why? What exactly was she getting out of their chats? It pained Luka to admit that she did. Their visits over the week were what kept the popstar going during the days she couldn't steal away.

"I can pay."

Miku's eyes widened. "I couldn't letyou—"

"How much do you owe?"

"A lot."

"Don't bullshit me, Miku."

Miku released her grip on Luka's shoulders, hesitating a moment before reaching up and cupping the taller girl's cheek. Her skin was impossibly warm and Luka had to fight the urge to lean into it. "This isn't your burden to bear. Please, just... Give me a few days to clean up my mess."

Luka's eyelids fluttered shut and she allowed herself to enjoy the contact for a heartbeat longer before stepping away. "Okay."

"Where are you going?"

The pink haired woman didn't answer and the sound of the door closing behind her had an air of finality.


	5. Unexpected Developments

**—Unexpected Developments—**

"Miss _Megurine, tell us: what's the secret to your incredible success on the idol scene?_ ** _"_**

 _She smiled, utterly charming, and said, "Please, call me Luka. I suppose what makes me most successful is staying true to who I am. Honesty is the best policy—or so they say."_

"That they do," the reporter laughed, obviously caught up in the pink-haired popstar's _charm. "Thank you so much for joining us tonight."_

 _"Thank you for having me. It's always a pleasure."_

Miku shut off her TV and then stared blankly at the dimmed screen. TV had been the only way Miku had seen Luka in a little over a week now. If she was being honest—and she always was—she missed the girl. That was a new and scary feeling.

A chime indicated that Lloyd wanted her attention and she picked up the phone on her nightstand, her gaze still on the television.

"The boss wants to see you in his office."

...

Principals and asshole bosses tended to like having offices at the end of long hallways. All the better to create feelings of dread while one walked along them, wondering when and how they had screwed up.

"I spoke to a friend of yours recently."

"I don't have any friends."

The man scoffed and threw down a packet of images he had pulled from the building's high tech security system. "You sure? She's a cutie."

 _Luka_...

Something aggressive and protective stirred beneath Miku's breast. For one thing, she didn't like being watched. For another-why the hell was he paying such close attention to this particular note? She knew he wasn't a fan of television, choosing to spend his free hours scheming instead, but what if he'd recognized her from a tabloid? "She's been coming to see me recently. I don't know much about her."

"That right?" He stared, and Miku met his gaze unflinchingly. "What we do know is that girl has money. If she's asking for you, I need you bending over backwards to give her what she's asking for. Capiche?"

"Yes, Boss."

He let her get away with it this time. "Good girl. Now get out of here. You've got a date and I need you looking your best."

Her heart skipped a beat. "I wasn't told to expect company."

"Well now you know."

...

Miku cut her leg while rushing to shave. Not too deep, but it was still quite painful. She was swearing under her breath and looking for something with which to staunch the blood flow when there was a knock at the door.

"Come in!"

She nearly tripped in her eagerness and Luka didn't hesitate to come to her aid. "Are you okay?"

Up this close, the pop star was even more breathtaking. Miku nodded, unable to trust her voice. The soft exclamation that the pink haired girl released upon noticing her calf snapped her back to reality. "It's nothing. I was clumsy."

"You should still dress it; it could get infected." Without bothering to consult the green haired woman, Luka went into the bathroom.

Miku could only stare after her, her mind reeling. She hadn't expected to see Luka again, yet here she was, applying antiseptic to her calf. The pink haired girl bandaged the by-now bright red wound and then sat back to survey her handiwork before nodding to herself.

"There."

"Thank you."

"Just be more careful next time, okay?"

Apparently the immensely talented, beautiful, and wealthy idol had a heart of gold as well. Miku wasn't consciously aware of the desire, but suddenly she was squeezing Luka's hand in hers. "Seriously. Thank you."

Miku felt the other girl begin to pull away, but then she stilled. It was difficult to read her expression, but her body language—the slant of her shoulders and the way she refused to meet Miku's gaze—spoke volumes.

She gentled her tone, seeking to draw the popstar's attention away from their point of contact. "How have you been?"

"Could be better, could be worse."

The "better" part of that was confusing given how well things had been going. Public appearances and an award ceremony honouring her musical accomplishments had been all over the news. She had seemed happy on camera, but seeing her now, Miku was aware of the dark circles that had formed underneath bright blue eyes.

"Is everything okay? You can talk to me, you know. Sometimes it helps just to share."

"I'll be fine."

She didn't press the issue. "My boss mentioned that you went to see him. How did that go?"

"Fine. I got to the bottom of what was owed and I took care of it. Don't you dare bend the rules for me again."

Miku didn't doubt she'd break such a promise, so she changed the subject. "You really didn't have to do that. I could have handled it."

"I always pay my debts. I don't like owing others."

She ran her thumb over the back of Luka's hand, mindful of just how soft her skin was. "I feel badly..."

"Don't." The firm tone of voice brooked no arguments. "I'm glad you did what you did. We might not have met otherwise."

Luka dared to add her other hand to the equation, drawing gentle patterns over the girl's forearm. "I believe that all things happen for a reason."

"Maybe." She shifted, her gaze flicking downwards. Her lips parted, her tongue flicking out to wet them. "How have things been going here?"

"Same old, same old. I did meet a really sweet girl who kind of reminded me of you..."

She told her story about the exchange, editing it tastefully as she went—particularly the parts about sex and the weird sense of loneliness the girl had inspired because of those similarities. Now that Luka was before her, she felt like she had a million things to say, but no way to express it all. Where to begin? Her heart was taking on the same manic pace of her thoughts.

Luka was smiling, faintly. "I see. I'm glad you're well."

The silence that stretched between them was sudden and heavy.

Luka cleared her throat. "Anyway, I just wanted to drop in. I should get going."

So soon? "That was quick. Didn't you pay for a full session?"

"I've been really busy. I thought it would be nice to at least explain that to you in person. As it is, I've already stayed longer than I should have."

Miku was loathe to release her grip, but she did and then she walked Luka to the door. "It was lovely seeing you."

"Yeah... Same. I'll come see you again next week."

The moment the door shut, Miku breathed a sigh. It was going to be a long week.

* * *

"Lloyd, why didn't you tell me Melody went to go talk to the boss?"

 _(Who?)_

"The kid."

 _(Oh. She kept bugging me until I called him down to meet her. )_

"Since when does he meet with our clients?"

 _(Since she pulled out a wad of cash and said she'd pick up your slack.)_

Her pride smarted a bit, having underestimated just how expensive it would be to see Luka every week, but she pushed through the pain. "I can't believe she did that."

 _(I was pretty surprised, too. She must like you.)_

 _Ba-bump._ "It's my job to be liked."

 _(Right. You be careful you don't start liking her back.)_

The fine hairs at the nape of Miku's neck stood on end. "Don't be stupid."

 _(What's so stupid about it?)_ He sounded amused. _(You went out of your way to meet her, didn't you?)_

She didn't like his tone or the direction the conversation had taken. "Do me a favour and send the cleaners up to my room. I—"

 _(That good, huh?)_

She hung up on him mid-guffaw.

* * *

"Hey, it's Miku!"

"What's up, Miku?"

"You've been a ghost around here lately."

She'd taken the risk of reporting to the kitchen late and therefore missing dinner in order to avoid being seen. So much for that.

Kisame, the girl who had commented on her absence, was on the same floor as her. The other two girls sitting across from her were in lower floors, but we're trying to move up in the ranks. As such, Miku was somewhat of an idol to them.

"Come sit with us."

Miku froze, caught between wanting to make a dash for her room with her food and not wanting to be completely rude. In the end, her manners won out and she joined the trio.

"You've been busy, huh?"

"A bit. The boss expects me to maintain my numbers this month and I've been working my ass off."

"Hopefully not literally," one of the girls from the lower floor snickered. "That ass is part of the reason you're so popular with customers."

"Maya, hush."

"It's true! She's gorgeous."

Miku resisted the urge to roll her eyes and Kisame smiled apologetically. While the two bickered, Kisame asked quietly, "You seen Gerald recently?"

"No. He called me up and asked to reschedule for the following week."

"Hm."

"Why?"

"You be careful with that one. He's somewhat of a rumor mill."

"I see. Thanks for the tip, but I've got nothing to hide."

Even as she said it, she couldn't help but think of a certain pink-haired popstar.

* * *

"What have you got there?" Miku asked, watching Luka enter the room with great interest.

The popstar glanced in her direction and surprised her by giggling.

Miku tilted her head. "What's so funny?"

This encouraged a fresh wave of mirth and, though she was slightly miffed that she was being laughed at, the way bright blue eyes lit up was worth it. It took Luka a moment to calm, after which she said, "You remind me of my cats."

That was a good thing, she supposed. The girl seemed to dote on her feline companions.

"How so?"

"Just the way you were watching the door just now. Like you were waiting for your master to come home."

Had she been doing that? Miku's cheeks heated. "Oh."

"It's kind of cute."

She refused to make a bigger fool of herself. "Thanks. So what is that?"

"I was out today and I saw this; thought you might like it."

Miku accepted the shopping bag with a curious frown. The expectant look on Luka's face revealed that she genuinely cared about Miku's response to the gift. She likely wasn't expecting the total lack of response from the green-haired woman as she sat numbly, not really seeing the stuffed animal clutched too-tightly in her trembling hands.

"Miku?"

The image of a young girl, her green hair a wild mane rather than neat pigtails, crying and rubbing her eyes was so vivid in her mind's eye that the room around her ceased to exist. The girl was lead by the hand to a waiting car and once inside, she was given a stuffed toy and told that the orphanage would easily find a lovely new home for her. She wouldn't have to worry about a thing.

Miku had run away at 13, five years later.

"Hey..."

A hand cupped her cheek, guiding her gaze to the concerned frown on Luka's face. The openness of her expression coupled with the gentle touch only served to tug more firmly at her heart strings. The dam broke, memories of rejection and hurt hitting her like a wall of water. She buried her face in Luka's chest, sobs wracking her shoulders. She couldn't remember the last time she had cried. This actually felt... good.

And Luka let Miku unload years of unprocessed emotion, her hand drawing soothing circles across her back.

...

"How are you feeling?"

Miku nuzzled the hollow of Luka's throat. The popstar smelled good. She wasn't sure how they'd ended up stretched out on her bed, but she wasn't going to question a good thing. She was careful to keep her hands from wandering, but Luka's inviting warmth made it difficult.

"Better." And worse. She felt incredibly raw after having revealed her past to Luka. It wasn't something she thought about anymore. She was comfortable with her life and knew exactly where she was going from here. Luka had inadvertently shaken up that certainty.

She'd been taking fewer appointments lately. Lloyd, as observant as ever, had commented that she must have been coming down with something. His eyebrow wiggle indicated that he didn't mean anything health related, but she ran with it and had sequestered herself.

It wouldn't be long before the boss came knocking, however.

"I'm glad," Luka said softly. "Sorry, I'm kind of fading here."

Miku consulted her watch. "We've still got fifteen minutes. Take a little nap."

"You sure?" She shifted, instinctively cuddling the smaller girl as she dozed.

Miku didn't respond, staying very still until Luka's breathing evened out. Her attractiveness actually increased with her relaxed demeanor and Miku reached up to brush a lock of hair out of her face.

' _What am I doing?'_


	6. Small World

— **Small World—**

Luka hunched her shoulders as she stole out of the luxury car her manager insisted she take to and from practice. She hadn't put her face on yet because they wouldn't be filming rehearsal, but that didn't mean she felt any less conspicuous while accompanied by her production team. Everything was a process when they became involved—an all day affair that had her running around like a headless chicken. That being said, today's schedule was jam-packed and her temples were already throbbing though noon hadn't rolled around yet.

 _Get in, get out._ Luka wasn't a huge fan of the choreography for her new video, but then it wasn't really for her was it? According to trends, this was the style that appealed to the bulk of her audience. She did a little skip-hop, counting the steps in her head. The routine overall was simple and she had learned it quite quickly, so one take was all she would need. Hopefully that meant today would be an early day.

Luka was so focused on her destination that she quite literally ran into another person and apologized profusely as she moved to help the other party to their feet.

"Fancy seeing you here," Miku chuckled, accepting the proffered hand. She didn't release it after she had been on her feet and Luka was immediately made uncomfortable by her own lack of discomfort. Miku had proven to be the touchy feely type and apparently that was okay. "Are you busy?"

Almost always. But she didn't say that. Instead, she asked, "Did you need something?"

"Care to meet up for lunch later?"

She could actually see the production team stragglers filing into a building a block over. It would only be a matter of time before they noticed she was missing.

"Uh, sure." She couldn't say no—not to Miku.

Miku grinned and pulled a mobile phone out of her bag. It wasn't the latest model by a long shot and when she handed it to Luka, the popstar could only stare blankly.

"Your number," Miku prompted. When she continued to hesitate, the green-haired woman asked, "Is that okay?"

"Uh, yeah." It really wasn't, but she began entering her phone number anyway. Before typing the 9th digit her finger hovered, twitching between the six and the seven.

 _(Has anyone seen Luka?)_ a voice asked in her ear, raised to be heard above the familiar din of production.

She quickly typed in a six and mumbled an apology before hustling off. Miku had caught her off-guard with her request-that was how she rationalized the pounding of her heart beneath her breast. Had she really just given out her personal number? She should know by now how dangerous that could prove to be; especially if Miku was to discover her identity.

Luka was entering the dance studio when the phone in her pocket buzzed. She glanced about surreptitiously before checking it:

 **(Catch you later, lovely!)**

 _Ba-bump_.

Even as she berated herself inwardly, Luka glanced down at the text again and couldn't help but smile.

 **(K. Cya.)**

Inside, her backup dancers were already in their places. They were only half dressed in silk white yukata over which they'd later don a crimson kimono with an elaborate floral pattern. The base of Luka's was black, though the neon design on the sleeves and along the slit that revealed a flash of skin with each step was the same.

She kicked off her sneakers and changed into the wooden tabi the other girls were wearing then took her place at the centre of their huddle.

...

"Luka!" The choreographer groaned and shook her head. "You had this routine down to a T, honey. What happened?"

The misstep had been a direct result of hearing her phone chime in her bag hanging across the room and she smiled sheepishly as she apologized. It wouldn't happen again-it shouldn't have happened in the first place. Because Miku shouldn't have her cell phone number and Luka shouldn't have been so excited to hear from her.

"Once more from the top, people."

They took a short break after rehearsal. While the backup dancers changed into their outfits Luka ducked into the room set aside as her personal changing room. She checked her phone, a thrill of excitement going through her.

 **(Meet at Sapporo's at noon? It's a nice little cafe on the strip.)**

The clock read 11:16am. They'd have to fly through the recording session for her to be there on time. **(I may be a little late..)**

 **(I'll be waiting :D )**

* * *

"Melody! Over here!"

This was one of those places Luka had passed a dozen times but never really gone into. Apparently it was the opposite story for Miku because the waitress who was chatting her up seemed to know her well enough. It was a little irritating to watch the way the blonde fawned over Miku, but Luka stowed that spike of irritation away for later examination.

The moment Luka approached the table, the green-haired woman leaped to her feet and went around to pull her chair out for her.

"You don't have to," she protested, despite the way the gesture made her stomach flip flop.

"Nonsense."

"I'm not being charged for this, am I?" It was a joke, of course. This wasn't the first time they'd run into each other outside of the brothel and it felt almost natural to spend time together. Like friends.

"I'm off the clock, but I'm sure you can find a way to compensate me for my time." Miku winked and Luka's face heated. She'd been doing that more of late—flirting—and it wasn't entirely unreciprocated.

Luka raised her menu, but she found herself glancing over the top of it at Miku. Blue eyes shone as the green-haired woman rattled off the dishes she'd tried and liked. Her lips were something Luka admired more frequently and with greater attention; they looked soft. Kissable.

"Is there something on my face?"

Whoops. "I was just thinking I wanted the noodles."

"You have to try their bubble tea. It's fantastic."

"Mhm..." Had Miku's cheeks always been so attractively flushed? She really wasn't the makeup type-she certainly didn't need it.

"And the sashimi is caught fresh daily. You can really taste the difference."

When Miku's tongue flicked out to wet her lips, Luka felt incredibly guilty for the excited stirrings that incited beneath her breast. "Mm..."

"I hope you're hungry because they give you a pretty big portion."

"Mhm."

"Are you listening to me?"

"Uh..."

"That's a no." Miku chuckled. "What's on your mind, lovely?"

There it was again—that pet name. It was a very recent development, but Luka wasn't sure how she felt about it yet. Miku reached out and rested a hand over hers, and she frowned down at the appendage. She pushed all sorts of boundaries with every passing day.

"It's nothing."

"You can talk to me about anything, you know."

Could she really?

Miku's gaze slid past Luka and, suddenly, she paled considerably.

"Is everything okay?"

"I need you to trust me."

"What?"

"Just trust me."

"O-okay..."

Miku was a whirlwind of activity; she rose, grabbing Luka's hand, and the cafe blurred around them as she took off running. Despite her longer legs, the pink-haired girl had trouble keeping up with the other woman's pace.

'What the hell is going on?'

They rounded a corner, narrowly avoiding crashing into an elderly couple, and she vaguely heard the tall man grumble about "young love these days." Luka let herself be led through a blur of streets until her lungs screamed for air. Miku slowed to a stop the moment Luka stumbled, stepping out of the street and under the awning of a storefront.

Luka leaned gingerly against the wooden railing, panting. "What the hell was that? Why are we running?"

"I'm sorry." Miku barely got it out around her laboured breathing. "I saw someone I knew—an artist—and he had his camera and I knew he recognized you and I didn't want him to snap a photograph and—"

"What are you talking about?" Even as she asked, her stomach sunk.

The look in blue eyes and the way the woman reached out gently, cautiously, sent off red flags. "Luka..."

 _'How did she—?'_ Something clattered across the floor, upended in her haste to place distance between them.

She knew. She had known this whole time who Luka really was. This was the part where she tried to extract some sort of hush money or forced her compliance by threatening to ruin her reputation.

Luka tried to turn and flee. The grip that caught her wrist was firm, but not rough. "Would you please listen?"

"..."

The hug she found herself on the receiving end of was far from unpleasant despite the circumstances. "I'm sorry. I wanted to tell you, but I didn't want you to think..."

"Think what?" Damn the way her voice shook, the dwindling rush of adrenaline leaving her feeling weak.

"That that's all I saw you as." A hand cupped her cheek, guiding her gaze to meet Miku's. "You're so much more than that, Luka. From the moment we met, I knew you were someone special."

"..."

"And I'd like to think we've become friends," Miku forged on. "Perhaps... even closer than that...?"

Suddenly, Luka was aware of just how close they were.

Miku's lips kept moving, presumably to release a stream of nonsensical blather born from nervousness, but Luka scarcely heard her. She watched the way full lips moved and the one thing she could take away from the exchange was the burning desire to find out if they were just as soft as they looked. She had a new appreciation for the way they curved at the corners just before parting to allow Miku's voice to be heard even as she wondered how her tone and pitch would change in the aftermath. She had a new appreciation for the delicate hands that gestured expansively even as she wondered if they would roam her front or entwine long fingers in her hair.

She wanted to kiss Miku. Badly.

Luka wasn't sure who leaned forward first, but their lips met once, twice, three times... And then Luka lost count. By the time Miku gave her enough space to allow her brain to reengage, her heart threatened to burst out of her chest.

"Miku..."

"Sorry..." Miku was smiling. "I had to."

"I'm glad you did." Luka closed her eyes, released a shaky breath.

"I've wanted to for a long time now... Luka."

Luka felt strangely vulnerable hearing her name, but then Miku threaded their fingers together and her nerves settled. She just had that effect on Luka.

"We should go."

.

.

.

"Thanks for the lift, Lu."

Luka arched an eyebrow at the nickname, but she didn't get a chance to protest it because the green-haired minx was pressing a sweet kiss to her cheek. Miku winked and slid back over to her side, then opened the door and got out. She stepped back and gave a little wave as the car took off.

Luka stared out of the passenger side window long after Miku was no longer in view, her face on fire. Thank goodness the back was tinted and the driver wouldn't be able to comment on the "friend" she'd asked him to drop off at the train station.

She couldn't remember a time when she had been this happy.

* * *

"Miss Luka, I've been talking with your handler and he's expressed some concerns."

She had been dreading this phone call. If there was one thing she had learned in the industry, it was that everybody talks. The moment you changed gears—the moment you slipped up—someone was waiting to catch you and use it against you. Avoiding scrutiny was a normal and stressful part of her day, but it seemed she had failed to do so in this instance.

"Oh?"

"You've been distracted of late. Is there anything we can do to make you more comfortable?" His tone suggested that the 4.8 million dollar house and lavish treatment should have been more enough.

Sometimes it felt like they forgot she wasn't a robot idol that required only maintenance to continue operating.

"It won't happen again."

Talk turned to the music video's progress and the upcoming concert. This one wouldn't require travel, fortunately, and Luka personally loved performing on her home turf. She wasn't sure what it was, but the Japanese crowd had a different sort of energy from anywhere else she'd traveled.

"How was the rest of your day?"

"I went to lunch and did a bit of shopping. Time flew."

There was a weirdly long pause. Then, "Are you seeing someone right now?"

Her blood ran cold. "No...?"

Had their mad dash been for naught? Had Miku's friend managed to snap a photograph of them together? She forced herself to breathe evenly, rationalizing that there was no way a story would have made it to the press already.

"Just remember that we advise against relationships. You're a star, Luka, and most won't understand the dedication and sacrifices that requires."

"... Right."

"Great. I'll see you at your concert on Monday. Keep up the good work, super star."

 ***Click***


	7. Cost of Freedom

Happy holidays, all. Sorry for the late update v.v Here's a longer-than-usual chapter to kind of make up for that? Heh.

— **Price of Freedom—**

Miku couldn't express how glad she was that Luka had trusted her. That joviality manifested by way of a skip in her stride as she made her way to their agreed meeting spot.

Her daily routine, her way of thinking, and even her patterns of speech had been completely overturned in the few months she had known Luka. Any free moment she had, sometimes while on the clock, was given to the pink-haired girl. There wasn't a moment when she *wasn't* thinking about Luka, though in what capacity tended to vary. Sometimes, she was appalled by the raw want she experienced for the pop star and she tamped it down before blue eyes could notice and regard her with disgust. Luka wasn't like her, and it was for that reason she had curbed her frankness when the topic of physical intimacy arose. Even though there wasn't a title for... whatever it was they were, she felt it wasn't appropriate to breach the topic-especially when it clearly upset the other girl.

Something warm stirred beneath Miku's breast when she spotted Luka in the distance. She'd literally done everything in her power to ensure the pop star hadn't been found out when they were together and as such, this seemed like a very bad idea. This wasn't the first time she'd been invited to Luka's place by a long shot, but this was the first time she'd acquiesced. The hairs at the nape of her neck stood on end and she glanced around surreptitiously for any sign of a camera or other recording device, but Luka seemed unconcerned standing there in the open.

Miku wasn't sure if that was bravery or foolishness. Luka herself had explained how poorly things would end for her if the press found out she spent her time in the company of... Someone like Miku, but she refused to even consider stopping their meetings. In fact, their outings had become so frequent that Lloyd had started singing childish songs under his breath any time he saw her "start to check her watch obsessively" when it was almost time to go and meet Luka. Apparently that was something she did now.

The moment Luka was in range, she swept the girl into a hug. She lost herself in the softness of pale flesh and the sweet smell of the perfume that lingered about the hollow of Luka's throat before catching herself and placing some distance between them. Miku cleared her throat and offered a shy smile, which was reciprocated with radiant beauty by the idol. "Hey, you."

No matter how many times she saw the pop star, she was somehow caught off-guard by just how lovely Luka was. Her gaze wandered from brilliant blue eyes and down to full pink lips, where they lingered. Was that what people referred to as being "star struck"?

"Hey yourself."

As they made their way up the drive, towards the massive glass building, Miku was struck by just how meaningful this visit was. Avid fans would have killed for the chance to enter the talented popstar's home and having done a bit of research, she knew close relationships were few and far between for Luka. Miku lingered in the entryway, managing to stop herself from asking, for the fifth time, "are you sure this is okay?" Luka caught her hand and tugged her forward, shutting the door behind them.

"Welcome to my home," the pop star said simply.

She gave Miku a moment to take it all in and the green-haired woman gawked openly. The place was lavish, all glass and clean modern lines, but there was a distinct lack of Luka to it. Then again it was understandable considering she only lived here three months out of the year, according to extensive analyzing of her tour schedule by fans.

It had felt a little unfair to have the advantage of so many sources when it came to the subject of the other girl, so Miku deigned to be an open book when it came to any personal questions Luka might have.

A mewl pulled her from her musings and the girl stooped to pet the cats that wound themselves around her ankles, demanding attention. So these were the two cuties she had heard so much about. The blonde cat, Lan, head-butted her hand when she shifted her attention to Luka.

Luka's expression was one of surprise. "They like you."

She said it as though that was wholly unexpected and Miku feigned hurt. "Am I really that unlikeable?"

Luka shook her head. "They're not a fan of my manager, and he stops by at least once a week. They barely tolerate Eric, the chef, and only when they're hungry."

Curious. Miku scratched both cats between the ears, taking care to give them equal attention lest they squabble. "Your house is gorgeous."

Luka made a noncommittal sound. "It's a bit much, but appearances are everything in my industry."

Miku could sympathize with that sentiment. The cats gave a sound of protest when she straightened to follow Luka through a tour of the house. By the time they came to a short hallway at the end of which was a closed door, she couldn't tell you how she had gotten there or how to get back to the foyer.

It occurred to Miku that the house was entirely still and quiet and, upon asking Luka about it, she received a lopsided smile. "I gave the staff the day off."

So they were alone.

Miku's heartbeat sped up and she distracted herself from her less than innocent thoughts by looking around this room with interest. Luka's bedroom. Again, Luka gave her a moment to take it all in, but this time there was nervousness to the way she shifted her weight from one foot to the other. What did she have to be anxious about? The brothel affected an air of richness and sophistication, but Luka's place was the real deal.

This room was very Luka. The wall were a pale blue and the high ceiling was decorated with a colourful mural depicting some of the places Luka had visited during her tours. The pop star was quite the traveler. The furniture wasn't quite as posh as the less utilized pieces outside and Miku hid a smile behind her hand at a monstrous oversized chair that doubled as a bookshelf for the books that didn't fit in the actual bookshelf. Many of the titles, unexpectedly, were romances.  
She met Luka's shy gaze and grinned. That seemed to dispel the tension that squared the popstar's shoulders and she went over to a mini fridge set in a kitchenette beneath an enourmous flat screen.

"Make yourself comfortable. Would you like something to drink?"

"Sure..."

The only place to sit was the bed sitting innocuously beneath a window overlooking the city. Despite the setting of previous meetings, Miku felt at once excited and guilty to wrinkle pristine lavender sheets and she perched at the edge of the bed. Luka came over and handed her a beverage. Her expression was bemused, noting the distance between them, and she patted the spot next to her.

Miku moved to join her, hyper conscious of the way their thighs touched. It felt... Wrong being here. Like she didn't belong. For the first time she could remember, Miku felt ashamed of her profession and she worried that she wasn't good enough for Luka. The lights dimmed and a movie started, but Miku scarcely noticed. A slender hand grasped hers, their fingers entwining, and that pang of guilt became impossible to ignore.

"Luka," Miku said.

"Mm?"

Miku worried her bottom lip with her teeth, heat rising to her cheeks. Why was she getting so worked up anyway? Where was this sudden doubt coming from when Luka was giving her no reason to feel this way in the first place? In fact, Luka looked more at ease than Miku could remember ever seen her.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Of course." She had the pop star's full attention, her unusual lack of directness causing Luka to frown uncertainly. "Is something wrong?"

Now Miku wasn't sure how to voice her niggling doubt. She settled for, "May I kiss you?"

Luka's frown softened and, wordlessly, she cupped Miku's cheek with her free hand, leaned in, and kissed Miku.

"Why me?" Miku murmured against Luka's lips, a pleased sound leaving her at the raw emotion she felt behind the simple contact.

"It feels right." Luka lifted their joined hands to her chest, and Miku felt the way the pop star's heart was beating against the back of her hand. The tempo was strong and somewhat rushed, and it mirrored her own.

It did feel right—that was undeniable. Miku was no stranger to intimacy and physical contact, but she'd never found such contentment in so simple and action as holding hands. With a soft sigh she reclined, resting her head on Luka's shoulder. Their bodies moulded together perfectly. Miku soon found she couldn't focus on what was happening on screen, her attention drawn to the way Luka's lips curved into a smile and parted to laugh, and how impossibly gorgeous she was in the low light.

Miku's mind caught up to her body only after she had entwined her fingers in long pink hair, her lips hovering centimeters from Luka's. She held the girl there, her breathing quickened with excitement, and when Luka didn't show any signs of resistance, she kissed the pop star soundly. Their tongues danced, hands roaming with the unhurried ease of familiar lovers, and Miku slipped her hand under the hem of Luka's shirt to touch soft swells of flesh that had yet to be explored.

Neither remembered much of the movie after that point on.

…

"This is for you," Luka said, leaning over the side of her bed and fetching something from the nightstand.

"What's this?" Miku asked distractedly, her gaze on the full curve of Luka's rear. Her fingers twitched as she resisted the urge to grasp Luka's hips and bring the pop star back against her. It was getting more and more difficult to resist urges like that.

Luka gestured vaguely. "It's for you," she repeated.

Miku's fingers trembled as she undid the pink ribbon keeping the plain white envelope shut. It took her a moment to realize what she was looking at. "A backstage pass?"  
And under it... a plane ticket to Europe.

Miku blinked, uncertain of how to respond to such a generous gift.

Blue eyes were shining hopefully. "Will you come?"

In light of what they'd just been doing the question seemed loaded, but Miku waved away her overactive imagination. "I... Can't." She hated the way the pink haired girl's face fell, but knew there was no other answer to give. "I've been behind this month. I've got to roll up my sleeves and get my hands dirty if I hope to make quota."

Miku tried to make light of it, but she noticed the way Luka's face darkened before she could reign the expression in for a more neutral one. Wordlessly, she threaded their fingers together and kissed the back of Luka's hand.

"What if I talk to him—"

"Don't." She was drawing attention to herself, and Miku was already having trouble deflecting the man's increasingly frequent interrogations. It was only a matter of time before he started doing his own research and found out more than Miku wanted him to know. "Promise me you won't, Luka."

Full lips parted, as if in protest, then thinned into a line. She nodded slightly.

'I'm sorry.' She closed the distance between them again, pouring her regret into a simple meeting of lips. She was taken aback by the ardor with which Luka returned the kiss, but the niggling concern at the back of her mind was pushed aside by desire.

"Where were we?"

Luka caught the hand that strayed too low, bringing it up to her lips. "Next time," she promised, gaze smoldering as she kissed Miku's knuckles.

"I'll hold you to that," Miku croaked. She'd never wanted anyone more, but there was something else there as well. Something she wasn't quite sure how to handle.

...

Miku wasn't thrilled to be back at the brothel, but she knew it was a necessary evil. There was a nightly attendance check and failure to maintain curfew wasn't something she could risk considering her current standing with her boss.

She skipped dinner in favour of showering, intending to rinse the lingering scent of Luka from her skin. Some time later, she was laying in bed, shifting fitfully while trying to force herself to relax and go to sleep. A glance at her nightstand confirmed that it was well past a respectable hour to call. Her finger hovered over the green dial button then, she tapped it.

Luka answered on the first ring. _(Miku?)  
_  
"Hey... Sorry to call so late."  
 _  
(Is everything okay?)_ her tone was concerned, lacking any trace of annoyance, despite the late hour, and Miku smiled.

"I couldn't sleep."

There was a soft, relieved exhale. _(Me_ _neither_ _.)  
_  
Miku imagined Luka was curled up in bed with her cats dozing at her feet and the thought made her smile wider. Part of her wished she could be there. "Is something on your mind?"

 _(What makes you think something's on my mind?)  
_  
"I know you pretty well by now. You can't sleep when there's too much on your mind.

Luka laughed softly. _(You've got me.)  
_  
"Would you like to talk about it?"

 _(You first.)  
_  
Miku worried her bottom lip with her teeth. It was a bad, recent habit. When she took too long to answer, Luka questioned her and she admitted quietly, "I miss you."

She could hear Luka moving around. Her voice sounded strange when she said, _(I miss you, too...)  
_  
 _Ba-bump_. "I could come see you in the morning. My first appointment isn't until after noon."

(You can't,) Luka said quickly.

"Why?"

 _(I won't be here.)  
_  
"Oh. Busy day?"

 _(Mhm.)_

Her reticence to divulge information was making Miku's stomach clench anxiously. "Luka, what's going on?"

There was a soft sigh. _(I'm leaving for Europe tomorrow in preparation for my concert.)  
_  
"Tomorrow," she repeated faintly. Her racing heart missed a beat, then redoubled its pace.

 _(Yes. In the_ _morning.)_ _  
_  
"That's so soon..."

 _(Production likes to be there early to make press appearances and get me acclimated to the area. I've been to Europe before, of course, but never this_ _area.)_ _  
_  
"Oh..." A heavy silence stretched between them, longer than was comfortable, and Miku began to pick at her comforter. Her heart was trying its best to hammer its way out of her chest and there was a tightness in her throat that made her afraid to say anything more.

 _(_ _Miku_ _?)  
_  
"Why didn't you tell me?"

 _(I'm sorry. I just... After I invited you to come with me and you said no, I didn't want today to feel like_ _goodbye.)_ _  
_  
And this was better? Why would she have let Miku think that today was just like any other only to drop this bombshell mere hours before she was going to leave?

"... How long?"  
 _  
(A few months.)_ She said it so quietly Miku had to strain to hear her. _(It depends on my reception.)  
_  
Luka couldn't leave. Not when things between them were going so well. Luka couldn't make her feel so content—so whole—only to whisk that away with her to Europe. A month seemed like a very long time, though the last four had flown by in Luka's presence.

"I have to go," Miku choked out around the lump in her throat. Fleeing was the best option to deal with the feelings roiling beneath her breast.

She hung up, but not before hearing Luka's murmured apology.

"I'm sorry..."

...

Miku cancelled all of her appointments, consequences be damned. She kept to herself for the most part, and Kisame was an unexpected ally in helping her maintain the wall she'd constructed around herself. When she did speak with the others, she was short, her only objective to get back to her room as quickly as possible. When she eventually had to go back to work, she was unenthused and lethargic and even some of her regulars stopped asking for her.

Lloyd joked that she was suffering from heartbreak and got a tongue lashing as a result. Kisame respected her space and no one else dared or cared to ask what was wrong, so Miku got the solitude she wanted, even when it became unbearable.

Two weeks dragged by in this fashion.

"This is for you," Lloyd said, stopping Miku at the desk on her way to the elevator. This was the first time he'd tried to talk to her since Miku had snapped at him. He had no way of knowing that exact phrasing would set her off, but it did and, though she immediately felt guilty afterwards, she couldn't keep from scowling at the man. "Whoa, what's been eating you?"

"Nothing. What is this?"

"Dunno. It just came in this morning."

Miku turned the envelope over in her hands, but doing so didn't reveal its origins or what was within its card stock casing. A small mark caught her attention and before she could dismiss it, she recognized the outline of a shape and froze: a musical note. "Thanks," she said, forcing her voice level.

"Haven't seen the Kid in a while," Lloyd began conversationally, before she could escape to her room. Miku could feel his eyes on her.

"Guess she no longer needed our services." She hadn't meant to sound so bitter, but the petulant note hung in the air between them.

"Our?" he repeated. "Let's be honest: she only ever came to see you."

Miku shrugged, but offered no comment. She turned yet a third time to head upstairs, but Lloyd stopped her.

"What do you want?"

His tone was careful. "Did something happen?"

"No."

"Then why the temper tantrum?"

"It's not a—" She trailed off at his expression and sighed. "She left, okay? She's all the way in Europe, and I'm here."

"So go there." He said it as though it was the obvious solution. Maybe it was.

"I can't just leave like that and you know it."

"Who are you trying to convince-me or you?

Miku bid Lloyd farewell and resumed her trek upstairs, the thick envelope tucked under her arm. She wasn't ready to read it—not yet.


	8. Epilogue

Merry Christmas or whatever it is you celebrate. It's been a good year and here's to many more.

 **-Epilogue-**

 _If you don't want to talk to me, I understand. But there's a lot I need to say, so I hope you'll at least listen. In case Lloyd didn't pass on the message when he gave you my letter: I'm sorry._

 _For a few things._

 _I'm sorry for keeping my trip from you. I didn't want to upset you and, once you turned down my invitation, I didn't know what to do or how it would affect our standing. I want you here with me. And maybe I'm being selfish, but I believe with all my heart that that's where you belong._

 _On that note, I'm also sorry for breaking my word and going to speak with your boss. I had to do something, Miku. I don't want to lose you. You're one of the few people who see past Luka the pop star and see Luka the person. I'd rather have spent one moment holding you than a lifetime knowing I never could. For once in my life, I didn't have to try-to be someone else, to be charming, to be happy. When I'm with you, it just happens. I want to be the reason behind your smile because you're the reason behind mine._

 _Please reconsider my invitation. I've taken care of everything._

 _Yours,_

 _Luka_

"Everything" had included essentially buying Miku's freedom as well as paying her way to the UK, where she'd personally overseen the purchase of new clothing and other essentials to replace the ones she'd left behind. The numbers made her dizzy when she tried to keep track of them, but Luka had seemed nonplussed, her fingers wound through Miku's as they navigated the narrow streets back to her flat.

The chain of events had happened so quickly Miku hadn't even had a chance to stop and consider the emotional debt she now owed the woman who had essentially granted her a second lease on life.

Miku rolled onto her side and buried her fingers in the long pink tresses of her bedmate, angling the girl's face and kissing her deeply. When Miku pulled away, Luka's cheeks were pink and her gaze was unfocused.

"What was that for?"

Miku smiled. "I was just thinking."

"About?" Blue eyes were curious.

"You."

They exchanged another tender kiss, cuddling closer beneath the thick fleece blanket. There had been a cold snap earlier that week.

"Are you happy?" Luka'd asked that question every day for a month now-as though she couldn't believe that Miku was here and that they were together. Sometimes, Miku had trouble believing it herself.

"I've never been happier," Miku confessed.

Over the past few weeks they'd explored the area, a small town on the outskirts of Westminster, hand in hand. They'd dined, shopped, chatted, and otherwise appreciated the change of scenery together. On occasion, Miku had seen a small smile on Luka's lips- painstakingly beautiful in its unguarded openness-that made her heart skip a beat. The reality of dating a pop star hadn't yet hit her. Though Luka was due on stage the next morning in front of hundreds of thousands of fans, live and on TV, it still felt like they were just two young women who cared very much for one another. A normal couple.

She'd have to face that reality some day, she knew. But for now?

Miku squeezed Luka's hand, her body warm and her heart full. The arms that encircled her waist made her feel safe and she sighed happily.

For now, everything was perfect.

 **-End-**


End file.
